


The Cake Is a Lie

by Mosca



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:04:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosca/pseuds/Mosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nolan doesn't need to wear pants to play this game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cake Is a Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/gifts).



> Thanks to Fox1013 for her help!

In a spectacular sartorial accomplishment that he himself has never matched, Nolan sits on the couch in his new living room wearing a pair of charcoal gray briefs, a magenta Polo shirt two seasons too unfashionable to be seen outside the house, and a navy blue terrycloth bathrobe that he has owned since college. He is eating Froot Loops out of the box and playing _Portal._ It is possible that he is regressing, but that implies that somewhere along the line, he has progressed.

There is a woman asleep in his bedroom, and he remembers her name. Some might interpret that as a sign of maturity, but Nolan fears it's a retreat to the womb. She is responsible for his money, after all: the money that accumulates from patents and investments even when he lounges on the couch on a weekday eating junk food and solving dystopian video game puzzles.

Padma is awake, in the living room, standing over him; the game drowned out her entrance. Nolan presses the pause button and turns so she can greet him with an exasperated kiss. She's in a plain black cotton camisole and matching panties, maybe trying to entice him to put down the controller for some morning sex, but more likely picking up on his conviction that getting dressed is, under the circumstances, a waste of energy.

Her bare legs turn in slightly at the knee like a fawn's. Looking at her is still exciting.

"I got a call from your friend Emily," Padma says.

"She starts early."

"It's almost noon." There is no judgment in Padma's voice, only an accountant's steady reportage of fact. Some of his habits, she nags him on, but others, she seems to have learned, are not worth the effort.

"She knows it's early for me," Nolan says, "and she knows you're here."

"She wants me to launder money for her," Padma says. Her lack of outrage is refreshing.

"Oh?"

"She didn't phrase it like that," Padma continues. "But she has money she wants to keep out of sight of Grayson Global by funneling it through an empty subsidiary of Nolcorp into several accounts, domestic and foreign."

"I see," Nolan says. What he sees is that Emily is trying to make her father's financial legacy disappear from the Graysons' sight. That legacy is Nolan's, the manifestation of his debt to David Clarke, of his responsibility for Emily. If there were any way for him to reveal this piece of the puzzle to Padma, then she would help without hesitation.

"Go ahead," Nolan says. "Take care of it."

"You mean launder the money?" Padma sounds, at last, a little scandalized.

"I mean, do whatever Emily asks you to do," Nolan says.

Padma clicks her tongue like she is about to speak, but she is silent for a moment. "What is it about her? Why do you go to such lengths without questioning her?"

"I do question her sometimes, not that it's ever changed her mind," Nolan says. He comes up with an explanation that should satisfy Padma even as it hides what he needs to: "If she were my sister, would you ask me why I do so much for her?"

"Considering you didn't find out your father was dead until six months after he'd passed away, yes, I would still ask."

"Emily is family," Nolan says. "Much more than my father was."

"I see." Padma walks around to the front of the couch and puts the cereal box on the coffee table so she can sit down next to Nolan. "But there's a problem. I can't do whatever she asks, because she asked me not to tell you she'd spoken with me."

"Oh." Nolan places a hand on Padma's thigh and runs it down to her knee. "So it's _that_ kind of request."

"What kind do you mean?"

"A loyalty test," Nolan says. "Of you. To me. She probably hoped you'd tell me." He's not as certain of that as he tries to sound. It's likely that Emily prefers him unattached, his emotions undivided. He chooses, in spite of contrary evidence, to think the best of Emily's intentions.

Padma runs her toes up Nolan's leg. "So did I pass?"

"You passed with me," Nolan says.

"But you still want me to commit this felony," Padma says with a nervous laugh.

"Can you do it so that none of us will ever be caught?"

"Of course," she says.

He kisses her cheek.

"I assume I should pretend you have no idea about any of this," she says.

"Yes."

"Then how will Emily know that you know?" she says.

"Because." Nolan drapes an arm around her shoulders. "You wouldn't have done it at all otherwise."

Padma squirms out of his embrace, looking perturbed. "Everything's so convoluted with you."

"People who think straightforwardly don't get extraordinarily rich," Nolan says.

She gets up, facing him in her underwear, the paused video game glowing behind her. "I'm out," she says. "I don't want any part of this."

"Of course you do." Nolan stands, taking off his bathrobe like he's throwing down a glove. "The financial analysts who never say anything, who go along with whatever I tell them, no matter how ridiculous? _They_ don't want any part of this. But you spoke up. You showed up at my house, for fuck's sake. This isn't the kind of game where you can start over if you screw up a level or rage quit when you're sick of it. You play or you die."

"Are you saying you don't want me to die?" She rounds the coffee table so she can put her arms around his waist and pull him close. "I guess that's sweet."

"There are surprisingly few people whose lives I care about," Nolan says. "Really, it's just you and Emily."

Padma presses her breasts up against him. "What _is_ she to you?"

"I told you: she's like a sister to me," Nolan says. "Someone I have reasons to protect and trust unconditionally."

"Even when she lies?"

" _Especially_ when she lies."

Padma stops and smiles. Nolan can't tell if it's because she thinks she's figured something out or because she's a _Star Trek_ fan.

"You're never going to tell me why, are you?" Padma says.

"I'll probably never tell you everything," Nolan says. "But you knew that coming in."

"You know, that's actually comforting." She kisses his neck, reinforcing the point. "Because it means you'll never tell her everything about me."

"How are you so sure of that?"

"I'm getting better at this game," Padma says. She brushes her hand down like she's going for his cock, but instead she releases him and hops onto the couch. "I can't believe you haven't beaten _Portal_ yet."

"It's my fifth time through," Nolan says.

"Do you have anything with multiplayer?" She doesn't give him a chance to answer. "I bet you don't even have a second controller."

"I do too," Nolan says. "What do you like?"

"Anything I have a chance of beating you at," she says.

Nolan doesn't own any games like that. On the other hand, he has a girl who wants to play video games in her underwear, and for that unlikely blessing, he does not mind letting her believe she might win.


End file.
